


Connection

by EllanaSan



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Dancing Lessons, F/M, Fluff, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Prompt : do a funny one where the team including the stylists try to put together haymitch and effie, please !! *-*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Akachankami for the beta

“Dancing is about connecting with your partner.” Effie scolded them. “Katniss, you have to trust Peeta to lead.”

Peeta was more worried about having his feet stomped upon than leading a waltz. For all her qualities, Katniss wasn’t a very good dancer. Effie had deemed it necessary for them to learn how to dance before they reached the Capitol for the party at President Snow’s mansion, which had led to an evening of endless entertainment for Haymitch and their stylists. Cinna and Portia were kinder than their former mentor, obviously, but still found the whole thing rather funny. They were all sitting on the various couches that had been pushed as far against the wall as possible to clear a dancing space in the center of the room, and were watching with amusement as Effie ordered them about with useless advices. Katniss was growing distinctly uncomfortable in his arms and Peeta was quickly becoming frustrated with the whole thing.

Haymitch’s laugh filled the living-room cart. “That is _never_ going to happen, sweetheart.”

“Please, Haymitch, if you have nothing helpful to say, then, refrain from speaking.” Effie snapped. Peeta and Katniss exchanged a look and rolled their eyes. Sometimes they were like an old married couple : absolutely insufferable. “Now, children, try again. One, two, three… One, two, three…”

“Does she know there are other numbers than one, two, three?” Katniss hissed for his ears only, watching her feet anxiously.

“No, no, no!” Effie sighed, clasping her hands. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Peeta suggested, diplomatically. He was kind of afraid Katniss would lose the thin margin of patience she had left. That, and his feet _could_ take a break from being stepped on. “I think it would be easier if we could just watch first.”

“Actually, that’s a very good idea.” Cinna said, kindly. “And I’m dying to dance.”

He stood and held a hand out to Portia who gracefully got to her feet. In a matter of seconds, they were twirling around the room, laughing and smiling like they were having the time of their life. Peeta slumped on the couch they had vacated in relief.

“Here.” Effie said, a little wistfully, coming to stand between the couch they were sitting on and Haymitch’s chair. “You can see they just click together.”

What Peeta could see was that Cinna and Portia obviously cared a great deal for each other and he didn’t understand what it had to do with dancing. He cared for Katniss and that didn’t make either of them a great dancer. And given the thoughtful way she was watching Cinna and Portia, he doubted all this had anything to do at all with them learning how to dance anyway. He nudged Katniss with his elbow and stared pointedly at Effie and then at Haymitch. Her eyes widened a little bit and she smirked, mischief written all over her face.

“Can _you_ dance, Haymitch?” Katniss asked, innocently enough.

The glare Haymitch sent her way was anything but innocent, it promised a thousand deaths. “Not if I can help it.”

“But you will have to dance at the President’s mansion too, won’t you?” Peeta said, flying at Katniss’ rescue. “Don’t you need to practice?”

Cinna and Portia stopped dancing and came closer to hear the conversation. It didn’t take much more than a look for them to understand what Katniss and Peeta were up to.

“Haymitch isn’t actually that bad at dancing.” Effie piped in, unexpectedly. “We had to do our fair share of that along the years.”

“Isn’t he, now?” Cinna’s smile was slow and amused. “What about a friendly competition, then? Katniss and Peeta can be the judges.”

“I’m not dancing.” Haymitch refused, sipping his glass of wine.

“Are you afraid to lose?” Katniss teased, leaning smugly against the back of the couch. “I think Cinna is the better dancer.”

“Or maybe Cinna has the right partner. Like I said, dancing is about connecting with your partner…” Effie pointed out. “It’s easier when you dance with someone you love or care for, at the very least.”

“Doesn’t make it easier for me.” Peeta mumbled but Katniss nudged him a little, reminding him what they were trying to do. “Come on, Haymitch, you have to dance, now! It’s a challenge. You can borrow Katniss.” Gladly. Why would his feet be the only ones to suffer?

Haymitch snorted. “Wouldn’t be much of a competition, then. That girl has two left feet.”

“Well, the solution is rather obvious, isn’t it?” Portia smiled. “You have to dance with Effie.”

“With me? Oh, no, no, no…” Effie said, blushing a little. “Not after last time.”

“What happened last time?” Peeta asked.

Haymitch and Effie exchanged _a look_ and a slow smirk blossomed on their mentor’s lips that made Effie turn crimson. “Dancing doesn’t sound so bad, after all.” Haymitch put his glass down on the ground and got up, holding out a hand to Effie, before staring down at Cinna playfully. “Prepared to be humiliated?”

Cinna only bowed a little in front of Portia and they were waltzing around the room again, obviously not concerning themselves with counting to three. Effie and Haymitch were slower. It took an awful amount of time for her to place a hand on his shoulder and for them to start moving. Like Portia and Cinna, they never glanced down at their feet – a feat, Peeta and Katniss would probably never be able to achieve – but were staring into each other’s eyes. They didn’t laugh, they didn’t smile, but never, _ever_ looked away from each other.

“Talk about a connection.” Peeta sighed.

Katniss rolled her eyes. “President Snow could come in and they wouldn’t even notice.”

Cinna and Portia were graceful and made waltzing look easy but Effie and Haymitch… Peeta wasn’t even sure they were actually waltzing. They were gliding around in small circles, looking at each other like it was the only thing that mattered… Haymitch was holding her much closer than what Effie had deemed proper for Katniss and him.

The song changed, then. No more waltz but something slower, a tad melancholic but also loving, the dancers slowed down, adjusting to the rhythm. Katniss huddled closer to Peeta and leaned her head on his shoulder. Forgetting the pretence of the waltz, Effie slid both of her arms around Haymitch’s neck, he held her around the waist and they just… swayed slowly, still gazing into each other’s eyes. For a few minutes, it was like a spell had been cast on the living-room cart.

And then the song ended and they stepped apart awkwardly. Effie cleared her throat. “I think that’s enough for tonight. We should all get some rest.”

They all agreed readily with that idea. Katniss and Cinna were the first to exit the cart, Peeta and Portia right behind them. Effie and Haymitch lingered in the room, so Peeta slowed down because he actually wanted to know at what time they were supposed to get up the next morning and Effie was the one with this information. Portia stopped too, a smile on her lips. “So, would you say Haymitch won this little competition?”

The melancholic notes of the last song escaped from the living-room cart again and they frowned at each other before curiously – but _discreetly_ – peering into the room. Haymitch was standing near the gramophone and was looking at Effie with an honest smile – not a smirk, not a sneer but a _smile_. Peeta’s eyebrow shot up near his hairline.

“One last dance, Princess?” Haymitch’s outstretched hand didn’t remain empty for long.

“It’s always one last thing or another with you.” Effie sighed but took his hand and let him put his arms around her. They weren’t dancing as much as embracing each other. They didn’t even sway, just… hugged. “One last glass of wine, one last bottle, one last dance, one last kiss…”

“I would say he certainly won something.” Peeta whispered to Portia, at last, a bit uncomfortable with what they were spying on. “We should…” But Haymitch’s voice cut him before he could suggest to leave them alone.

“I don’t like the idea of last times, that’s all.” Haymitch pressed a kiss to the side of her neck and Peeta really wanted to get out of there now. “All the more so when you’re concerned. If it were up to me I would never stop kissing you.”

Portia tugged lightly on his arm and they retreated to the corridor, quietly closing the door behind them.

“Well.” His stylist said, clearly finding the situation funny enough. “Here we were, thinking ourselves clever and subtle but I don’t think they needed our help at all, after all.”

“No.” Peeta agreed with a smile. “I don’t think they did.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was asked for a conituation so here it is :)

Effie was about to follow Portia out the living-room cart when the familiar notes stopped her. She turned toward Haymitch who was standing innocently beside the gramophone, with an outstretched hand and a smile on his lips.

“One last dance, Princess?” he suggested.

There really was no refusing that smile because Haymitch often smirked or sneered or even occasionally grinned but his smiles were few and special. Doubly so when he smiled at her. “It’s always one more thing or another with you.” she sighed, but she took his hand and let him pul her into his embrace. His arms naturally wrapped around her waist and hers circled his neck, their face were so close she could feel his breath rolling on her lips. “One last glass of wine, one last bottle, one last dance, one last kiss…” she teased.

Haymitch’s eyes were twinkling with amusement but his words were laced with seriousness. “I don’t like the idea of last times, that’s all.” He pressed a light kiss to the side of her neck, his lips barely grazed her skin. It frustrated her. “All the more so when you’re concerned. If it were up to me I would never stop kissing you.”

“I thought we were dancing?” Her fingers brushed the hair at the base of his neck tugging a little on the strands.

“In my memories, one doesn’t exclude the other.” He started swaying them slowly to the music, one of his hands wandering lower than propriety allowed but they were alone so she didn’t rebuke him like she usually would. “How come you have a record of that song?”

“I love that song.” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. It reminded her of the last time they had danced, a few Games ago. She had nagged him and nagged him because he had promised her a dance at a victory party but had never actually danced with her, too busy drinking with Chaff and the others, so when they had finally come back to the penthouse, he had been so fed up with her that he had turned the radio on, had taken her hand and had forced her to dance. She had struggled to get free, they had bickered and then she had yielded. She hadn’t known the song at the time but it was slow and bittersweet and the tension between them had shifted from hostility to something else. “I’m surprised you remember it, though.”

He bowed his head, his mouth brushed softly against her throat. “There is nothing about that night I could ever forget.” His lips trailed up to _that_ spot just under her jaw. “I remember dancing.” He kissed her skin. “I remember kissing you right here.” His hand went up her back and cupped her nape briefly before sliding under the base of the golden wig.

“Careful with that.” she chided him quietly.

“I remember tearing that ugly thing off your head.” he continued, but he removed it with more care than he usually showed, throwing it on the couch. He slowly removed all the pins keeping her hair in a tight bun before tousling it a little. “I remember being mesmerized by your red hair.”

“It’s not red, it’s strawberry blonde.” she cut in. “As I’ve told you countless times before.”

“It’s reddish blonde and you’re ruining the mood.” he scolded her. She rolled her eyes but kissed him hard on the mouth which made him fall silent as it always did. “I was working my way up to that.” he smirked, brushing the hair off her shoulder to kiss her neck again. “Now, where was I?”

“Telling me everything about your little obsession for my hair.” she grinned, undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, to stroke the skin there. “And more generally trying to convince me to let you in my bed tonight, I think.”

His smirk deepened. “Is it working?”

“I’m not sure.” she mused, letting her nails trail on his chest. “I was promised dancing but there seems to be a lot of talking and not much of that.”

“Ah, yeah… Dancing…” He took hold of the hand roaming on his chest, raised it into the air and made her twirl. It was ridiculous really and she couldn’t help her giggling. “What is it you said earlier about connection?” he asked, when she put her arms back around his neck. “Do you think I’m the right partner for you, sweetheart?”

His eyes were uncharacteristically inquisitive. “I don’t think we’re ever going to win a dance competition if that’s what you’re asking.” She smiled a little, kissing him softly. “Mainly because each time I’m back in your arms your forget to dance.”

“That’s your fault, you’re distracting.” he rebuked her, nuzzling her neck again. His left hand was on her lower back and steadily getting lower by the second.

“You’re easily distracted.” she pointed out before closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling of his arms holding her close. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and sighed in bliss.

“True.” They swayed slowly for a while longer, the song was about to end now and she was already regretting that it couldn’t last some more. That kind of moment between them were few and far between, there never seemed to be enough time for them to enjoy a dance or simple things like that. “You never answered my question, princess.” he whispered in her ear. She only hummed in reply, his thumb was drawing soothing circles on her back and she was easily distracted too. “All your talk about loving and caring for your partner… Do you think I’m the right partner for you?”

She frowned against his neck. “Are you asking me if I have feelings for you?”

His chest rumbled when he chuckled, she knew because her hand was there and she could feel the reverberations under her palm. “I know you have feelings for me.” He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “You’re usually _very_ vocal in your feelings for me.”

“Then what?” she asked, puzzled. She chose to ignore the teasing, she might have been, once or twice, a bit vocal, true, but he wasn’t that much better. She lifted her head to look at him just as the song ended. Another began to play but it wasn’t the right tempo, so they stopped swaying yet they didn’t let go of each other. “I don’t understand.”

“Just curious.” Haymitch shrugged, faking disinterest. “Having feelings doesn’t mean… one is one’s right partner.” He was embarrassed.

“Haymitch, are you blushing?” She touched his slightly flushed cheek, it was warmer than usual.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” he scoffed. “I don’t blush.”

“Oh, but _you are_!” she grinned. He rolled his eyes and she felt a little bad but it was too good to pass, really. “You are blushing.”

“Are you done?” The scowl on his face only made her smile wider, for the amount of teasing he did every day… He was a big baby, she thought fondly.

“You’re my partner.” she said, finally answering his question. “The only one I want and the only one I need.”

He didn’t seem satisfied, though. “So, you _do_ actually… you know.” He winced. “Love and care and all that crap.”

“All that crap?” she asked, drumming her fingers on his chest as a warning. “Why don’t you ask what you want to know instead of being so cryptic?”

His sigh was deep and a tad nervous, but when she looked at him, his grey eyes were resolute. “You have feelings for me, you care for me, but do you…” The words weren’t coming out but Effie understood suddenly what he was trying to say.

“Oh.” she blurted in comprehension. He wanted to know if she _loved_ him. “Is it going to spook you away if I say yes? Because I know you, Haymitch, you’re…”

He cut her off with a kiss; a slow, tantalizing kiss that left her breathless. “Don’t say it. Don’t.” He kissed her again. “I want you.” He was done playing around, she could tell. He was already unfastening her dress and she had to clasps his face into her hands to stop him from kissing his way to her breasts.

“Bedroom.” she reminded him. They had been reckless enough for that night, dancing and fooling around as if nobody could walk in on them.

“One day” he growled when she stepped away from him to fix her clothing and gather her belongings. “we will have a house and we won’t ever concern ourselves with where we have sex.”

“We?” she teased, opening the door.

His only answer was a wink.


End file.
